


can we lose our minds and call it love one last time?

by takemetothesky



Category: A.C.E (Beat Interactive Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But nothin too explicit, Denial of Feelings, Feelings, Fuckbuddies, Getting Together, Kim Byeongkwan is In Denial, Kim Sehyoon | Wow is Whipped, M/M, Not Beta Read, Sexual Content, We Die Like Men, and proud
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:27:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23589154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takemetothesky/pseuds/takemetothesky
Summary: Well, he smiles back, leaning in to meet Sehyoon in the middle of a soft, short kiss.The risk is worthy for that smile.
Relationships: Kim Byeongkwan/Kim Sehyoon | Wow, Lee Donghun/Park Junhee | Jun, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 102





	can we lose our minds and call it love one last time?

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to say that English is not my mother language so there are going to be grammatical mistakes along this story, probably. Don't hesitate in telling me if you stumble upon any of them! And I hope you get to enjoy this :)

Byeongkwan watches impassive as the man in front of him lights up what must be his four cigarette of the night—no, scratch that. His fourth cigarette within the forty five minutes they have been together. It’s not that he’s worried about this man’s health, not at all. Byeongkwan just hates the smell, deeply. It reminds him of that one hole-in-the-wall of a bar where he goes more often than he would like anyone to know.

“So,” the man says aloud, his voice coming out raspy and forced as he retains the smoke down his throat. “What do you do for, you know. Earn money, live,” he vaguely gestures with his hand. “You know—that kind of stuff.”

Byeongkwan blinks at the man, feeling incredible annoyed when he lets out the smoke almost in his face. “I’m a Dance Major. And I have an internship on a local dance studio as a teacher.”

“Damn. That sure sounds, you know—like a hard thing to do. The living out of it, I mean,” the man laughs alone. “I have a cousin that dances, but she’s still young. I don’t think she will keep it up in the future; it doesn’t seem like a sustainable career anyways. What about you?” he half smiles. “Are you switching to something more stable once you graduate from this?”

Byeongkwan hopes his expression is proof enough to show his date how annoyed he feels right now. Still, he can’t let this go: “you _really_ like talking without fundaments, right?” Byeongkwan shakes his head. “I work my ass into exhaustion for this, because is my dream and I’m going to live out of it. And assholes like you with opinions that matter _nothing_ to me, are not going to change that,” he searches for a couple of bills inside of his pocket, slamming them into the table as he stands up. “I’m out of here. You aren’t even funny.”

The night outside is pretty cold and it makes him shiver, but Byeongkwan is happy about it. The air inside the bar was too stuffy, even though he and his asshole of a date where in the smokers’ area with mostly every window and door open. Taking a deep breathe, he starts walking with no particular direction in mind. Byeongkwan runs a hand through his hair and makes a disgusted face as he feels how damp his scalp is with sweat. With a _tsks_ under his breathe and both hand shoved into his jacket pockets, he starts walking faster, as if there’s a destination he’s intended to get to. His phone is inside his left pocket and he wraps his hand around it, slowing his pace suddenly.

There’re plenty options that wait for him in the device. Byeongkwan usually doesn’t delete phone numbers in case—just in case, so there’re a lot of names of his past bed-friends in there. He can easily deal a number and spend his Saturday night having an actual good time instead of staying at home. _Too bad you don’t have the number of the person you actually want to see, right?_

It’s still early, barely a few minutes past ten. Byeongkwan considers for a moment his options—he’s not really in the mood of calling someone he hasn’t seen in a while, and of course that staying at home is not an option. So he takes his time to study the pros and con of actually going to that goddamn bar, search for that stupid blonde-haired man and have an actual good night.

There’re many, many contras of actually going there. First, the goddamn bar is pretty far from the place he’s right now. Second, Byeongkwan doesn’t like the way he always ends up with a sour feeling inside his chest the morning after. And third, he _hates_ Kim Sehyoon’s guts—well, he doesn’t _exactly_ hate him. He just can’t stand the man.

As for the pros, Byeongkwan can only thing of one thing, but only that it’s enough for him to extend his arm and call for a taxi to stop: Kim Sehyoon is also the best sex he has ever had.

⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘

It takes around twenty minutes to get there. Byeongkwan thanks the driver and steps out of the car and into the cold weather once more. There’s a long line o people waiting at the door to be let in, but as soon as Byeongkwan gets closer to the front door, the man standing there smiles at him. “Two weeks in a row?” he says as greeting. “I didn’t think I’d see you around here at least until next week.”

“Mh, what can I say?” Byeongkwan gives a half-smile. “Date went bad. Guy was an idiot.”

Matthew shakes his head, big smile on his face. “And yet, you come here looking for a bigger idiot.”

“True,” the brown-haired man nods. “But at least this one is fun to tease.”

The guard shakes his head again, before pointing at the door behind him. Byeongkwan’s smile only grows wider as he pats Matthew in the arm and thanks him, before walking to the _personal only_ door.

He doesn't want to admit that he comes here way more often than what he says aloud, nor the fact that he knows every single worker of the bar and can possibly call them at least acquaintances. Byeongkwan also doesn’t want to admit that due the time he has been spending at the bar, he already has a few privileges for his own. Like being able to get into the bar without having to wait in the long ass line not a single time. Or getting two or three free drinks per each night he comes, depending on the bartender in shift.

It’s the _band night_ tonight, how people usually call it, so the bar closes its door at the public for the show, only allowing in people who had paid for a ticket. Byeongkwan knows this is by far the best night for the place; Sehyoon and his band are pretty popular in town and usually the bar is out of space by 22.30 p.m., when the show usually starts. Byeongkwan focus his eyes in the doo at the end of the long hallway that leads to the kitchen, determined in ignoring the annoying voice that tells him that he never paid for a ticket and that that’s by far his biggest privilege in here.

Byeongkwan pushes the door of the kitchen, which is empty today. This is the place where he will usually bump into Sungjae or Seungwan on a normal day, but Saturdays are Wendy’s —how people usually call Seungwan at the bar, damn him if he knows why— free night, and Sungjae always helps out with the set-up of the band before he goes back to the kitchen to unfreeze the food that both cooks leave prepared the day before.

Stepping into the bar, he notices that the bartender in shift tonight is Jinwoo. Byeongkwan has known him since high school, and this man is pretty much the reason why Yuchan dragged him into this bar around a year ago. Byeongkwan likes him a lot; Jin is a man he can talk to about anything without getting bored. And the fact that they’ve been friends for a long time means more free drinks for him, too.

The band is gathered in the small platform that the bar sets up as a stage for them. Byeongkwan doesn’t get closer, though, instead walking to one of the few empty stools in the bar. “What’s up, Kwanie?” Jinwoo smiles at him. “Two consecutive weeks around here?”

“Why is everyone so surprised for that?”

“Because you never came two weeks in a row before,” the barely older man sing-songs at him. “You’re having your usual?”

Byeongkwan nods shortly, dropping the weight of his head into his hand and turning around to look at the stage again. Sungjae looks at the bar jus there, gesturing something to Jinwoo before spotting him. He smiles big, waving a hand as a greeting and Byeongkwan gives a small nod and a small smile in response. That’s all Sehyoon needs to turn around and spot him, locking their eyes together. Byeongkwan straightens up his posture, lifting an eyebrow and adopting a defensive posture at the way Sehyoon’s smile only grows wider. He fights back a smile himself, because Byeongkwan will never give Sehyoon the pleasure to know that he can make him smile with such a silly gesture.

Jinwoo taps at the wooden surface that divides the bar with an empty glass to call his attention, before pouring Byeongkwan’s favorite drink on it. “Thank you,” he smiles a little, before knocking down almost all the liquid in a few gulps. He shakes his head at the burning feeling in his throat, focusing once more on the stage where everyone is already in their positions. Sehyoon meets his eyes once again and gives him a little wink before the lights go off. The show starts. 

⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘

Byeongkwan’s back hits the door as soon as it gets closed and they're both inside of the apartment. He can feel Sehyoon everywhere; pressing their lips together in a messy kiss, sneaking one of his hands under Byeongkwan’s shirt in his back and slipping the other one inside the front of his pants. He gasps loudly, breaking the kiss and throwing his head back against the wooden surface of the door with a loud tuck. It hurts briefly, but he doesn't care at all. Sehyoon shifts easily to his neck, biting down hard at the exposed skin. Byeongkwan hisses under his breath, but it comes out strangled as the hand inside of his pants wraps around his shaft.

“So,” Sehyoon murmurs low right next to his ear, before nipping at the lobe. “Will you tell me?”

The hand on his crotch moves a little and Byeongkwan loses focus for a moment. “ _Shit,_ I—tell you what?”

“You came to the bar last week,” he says in a husky voice, lips sliding down the brunette’s neck once again. “You never came two weeks in a row, so why?”

Byeongkwan smiles pleased, steading his body with both hands on Sehyoon’s broad shoulders. “Matthew-hyung told me the same. Though,” he purrs. “He sounded _way_ happier than you to see me. Maybe I went home with the wrong person, mh? Maybe I should go back there and—”

Almost a second later, Sehyoon tugs at his hair and drags Byeongkwan’s head back to cut his words, and biting down on his neck once again, harder this time. The brown-haired smiles pleased, because he loves the way Sehyoon is so easy to tease. “You should go back and _what_ , mh?” he growls low. “You think he can give you a better time than me?”

“What happens, Sehyoon-ie?” Byeongkwan purrs again, circling his arms around Sehyoon’s shoulders. “Scared that I might try to find out?”

“Don’t test me, Byeongkwan,” the older whispers in his ear, and Byeongkwan shivers at the way his name sounds in the husky voice. “You should know by now that I don’t like to share.”

“Yeah, but I’m not yours,” Byeongkwan moans, head falling against the door again as the hand on his back moves forward to his chest and into his nipple. “You must be glad that I cancel that date to be with you tonight, then.”

The movements stop for a moment as Sehyoon laughs. It comes out without a single drop of humor though. “You had a date?”

Byeongkwan moans at the new tug on his hair, the sound quickly followed by a whimper from the back of his throat as Sehyoon drags his hand out of his pants. “No. No, no, no,” he cries out, grabbing at the other man’s wrist. “Hyung— _hyung_ , please. Please.”

The air leaves Sehyoon’s lungs in a sharp breathe. “Fuck, you can’t—you can’t just drop the hyung-card on me.”

Sehyoon takes them to the bedroom in a rush after that, carrying the other man in his arms like he weights nothing. Byeongkwan’s body bounces on top of the mattress when Sehyoon pushes him down before climbing on top of his body to claim his mouth. It’s a messy kiss, full of teeth bumping, bites on lips and tongues fighting against each other. Byeongkwan _loves_ them. And he also loves Sehyoon’s bed. It’s way more comfortable than his own and besides, it smells as that fresh perfume his lover’s uses. _Lover_ , Byeongkwan lets the word roll in his mind. _Should I really call him that?_

He gets distracted from his thoughts easily as Sehyoon bites down on top of his collarbone. The brown-haired knows how much Sehyoon loves to bite and mark him up. And he loves it too, he’s really into it. Loves the way the blonde would trace his lips across his skin, waiting for the perfect moment and the perfect spot to bite down on him or suck a hickey. And of course, Byeongkwan loves the way the angry red and sometimes purple marks bloom on his skin later, creating a delighting contrast. So he stops thinking for a moment, arching his back and moaning loud at every new bite he gets, just because he knows how much it turns his partner on.

It doesn’t take long before Sehyoon starts to get impatient, tugging at their clothes to get them completely naked. Byeongkwan’s dress shirt is the first thing that flies across the room just a moment after he climbs into Sehyoon’s lap, who doesn’t spare a second before placing both hands in the small of his lover’s back, making Byeongkwan’s body lean forward so he can sink his teeth on his right nipple. “Not that hard,” the younger protest, slapping at the other’s arm. “You know I don’t— _ah_.” 

They like to fight for dominance in bed; it’s _their_ thing. Sehyoon will always try to pin him down, but Byeongkwan knows how to seduce him unto submission, kissing along his neck and chest, purring sweet words until the older is distracted enough to let him take the lead. He likes to be on top on Sehyoon’s thighs; likes to be the one that marks their rhythm and the one that gets to drive the older crazy by riding him.

This time, nevertheless, Byeongkwan can’t stop the force that Sehyoon is—and he knows it’s his own fault, for teasing so much, for railing him up without mercy. So he just lets himself be manhandled, until his body lying flat on his front, hips lifted and his hyung’s face and fingers buried between his ass cheeks. “Come on, hurry up,” Byeongkwan whines, trying to move away from Sehyoon’s iron grip. “Hyung, please,” he tries again, sweetly this time, as he wiggles his ass a little. It only earns him a sharp slap on the left cheek, before Sehyoon drops a wet kiss to calm the ache down. The fingers inside him keep moving at a torturous slow pace.

“You alright there, baby?” Sehyoon asks after a moment and the derision is audible on his voice. Byeongkwan whimpers, biting down on his arm to stop the sounds from coming out of his mouth, but his partner is not having it. He retracts his hand suddenly, leaving the younger with an empty feeling and ready to complain about it, but Sehyoon lifts his body, making him press his back flush against his chest. “What is it, mh? You want to keep your mouth stuffed, Byeong-kwan-ie?” he purrs into the younger’s ear, using the hand that’s not supporting Byeongkwan’s body to hold his jaw and turn his head so he would look at him. “Answer your hyung, Kwanie, would you?” Byeongkwan nods as best as he can in his position and soon feels two of Sehyoon’s fingers sticking in his mouth. He obscenely moans around them, hearing the way Sehyoon smiles right next to his ear. “You sure are desperate for me today, hu?” 

Sehyoon fucks him in a steady pace and Byeongkwan feels like it’s too much way too soon. His lover knows all the right places; all of those magic spots that can make him scream out his name without much effort. And dear God, the younger can’t even deny how much he loves that. How the feeling of being completely known, of being touched he way he likes the best without having to say a word is probably the best sensation in the world. _This is why you can’t get rid of him_ , a voice inside his head laughs at him as his body is pushed down into the mattress, big hands clinging at his hips as Sehyoon’s pace grows faster, deeper. _Nobody is going to give you what he gives you._

⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘

Byeongkwan refuses to open his eyes. There’s a warm, firm body pressed against his back, arm thrown on top of his waist to keep him close. He knows Sehyoon is still asleep; it’s easy for him to tell by the way he breathes slowly against his nape, tickling Byeongkwan every time he exhales. 

This are the moments that leave a bitter-sweet feeling inside his chest. Byeongkwan has never been a morning person, but there’s something that keeps him from sleeping too late in a bed that’s not his own. So every time he spends a night at Sehyoon’s place, he wakes up barely a few hours after they pass out from exhaustion. This is bad, because Byeongkwan is left alone with is thoughts and that never ends well. He tends to overthink a lot. About how much Sehyoon knows him from head to toe. About how it doesn’t matter that he acts all cold, both Sehyoon and him know perfectly that Byeongkwan won’t even hesitate in choose hi over any other plan. About how warm it feels to wake up like this, and how he doesn’t want to open his eyes and end the illusion. About how deep down he knows that he doesn’t want to leave, doesn’t want to feel cold again.

But still, Byeongkwan can’t go against his fears, no yet. He knows that as soon as Sehyoon finally wakes up, he will pretend to be asleep for a while, only to feel the way the other man touches him. So soft, so caring—as if he’s scared that Byeongkwan will fade away in his hands if he puts too much pressure. He knows that the older tip toes around him it because it has happened before, every damn time they end up together in a bed. Sehyoon will delicately touch him, touch his arms, his hair and his face—maybe his waist, sometimes, too. But as soon as the younger feels the way his heartbeat is racing too much due the tender way Sehyoon treats him, Byeongkwan will pretend to wake up and will leave as soon as he gets dressed. 

And he wants it so much right now. He’s starving for those feather-like touches, those that make him feel loved, wanted and missed, somehow. So he lays there in bed, controlling his breathe as soon as Sehyoon shifts behind him, stretching his body a little before curling again against his back, much closer this time.

They stay still for a while, just breathing and existing close to each other, until Byeongkwan feels the arm under his head tense and relax a few times. He briefly thinks about how numb it must feel right now, since he has been using it as a pillow for the past few hours. Still, Sehyoon doesn't make a single move to try and take it off and Byeongkwan clenches his jaw a little. He hates Sehyoon like this: all caring and always putting his comfort first. It only makes things even harder for him.

The hand that rest on top of his stomach starts to move around, slowly caressing at his skin while Sehyoon nuzzles against the back of Byeongkwan head, before pressing an open-mouthed kiss in his nape. Then, without prior notice, he bites down and Byeongkwan whole body tenses up.

The blonde man laughs softly through his nose. “You’re really bad at pretending to be asleep,” he murmurs, words barely audible. Still, his voice sounds hoarse and it sends shivers down Byeongkwan’s spine. “How are you feeling, baby? Does anything hurt?” he asks softly, caressing the skin of his tummy. “Are you hungry?”

Byeongkwan takes his time to contemplate his options one by one carefully: he could easily leave now as he usually does, and get home feeling hungry, tired and absolutely irritated with himself; or he could stay here for the rest of the night —the sun isn’t even up in the sky— and maybe be lucky enough to get some more sleep, a nice breakfast and maybe, just maybe a second round of amazing sex.

“Shut up,” he finally murmurs, turning his face more into the pillow just to avoid Sehyoon looking at him, but still moving closer to the warmth of the older’s body. “I want to sleep some more.”

⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘

The second time he wakes up, sunlight baths the whole place. He’s alone in the room now, what means Sehyoon already got up. And it looks like he opened the curtains on his way out, to Byeongkwan's annoyance. He opens his eyes slowly, blinking until he gets used to his bright surrenders.

This is the very first time Byeongkwan has spent the night at Sehyoon's place in the months they've been sleeping together and he has no clue of what he should do now. He feels a knot in the pit of his stomach and knows it's because anxiety is taking control over hi mind. Byeongkwan doesn't know what the morning after should feel like, but the mix of feelings inside of him are not pleasant at all. Still, there’s no turning back now; he can’t run away from Sehyoon forever. And it’s not like he can jump out of the window to avoid him either, they’re in a 4th floor. 

So he sits in the bed, stretching his back and arms a bit to get rid of the numbness on his limbs. “Sehyoon-ssi?” he calls, clearing his throat as soon as the words leave his mouth. “Sehyoon-ssi, I’m awake.”

He refuses to address Sehyoon as his _hyung_ out loud when they’re outside of their bedroom activities. They’re not friends, less than acquaintances, so why would he call the older like that? When they’re in the bed though, it’s a completely different story. Byeongkwan knows how much Sehyoon likes to heard the younger addressing him like that.

Byeongkwan frowns at the silence that answers him back. He sighs, feeling annoyed —and maybe cursing a little bit under his breath— as he tosses the duvet aside and gets up from the bed. Looking around the room, he notices that his clothes are no longer thrown onto the floor; instead, they’re neatly folded on top of Sehyoon’s desk, next to a small handwritten note.

_I went out for some food. You can take a bath if you want, make yourself comfortable. I won't take long. Sehyoon._

Byeongkwan snorts shortly. “As if someone else was living here.” 

He wants to run away as soon as the sound of the front door getting closed gets to his ears. Still, he doesn’t move an inch from the bed. He’s still naked under de duvet, since his underwear was nowhere to be found and there was no way in hell he would dig into Sehyoon’s drawer to look for one.

That’s how the older finds him barely two minutes after he gets into the house; half-sitting, half-leaning against the headboard of the bed, with his chest naked on full display. Byeongkwan is doing it on purpose, of course. He looked at himself in the mirror and spotted every single hickey and bite mark Sehyoon has left on his skin, most of them around his neck and collarbones. So yes, he is pretty much doing it on purpose just to see the desire tinted in Sehyoon's look as he traces down his figure with hungry eyes. It sends shivers down his spine and he feels completely exposed at his lover.

“So,” Sehyoon nods shortly, a smirk on his lips as he starts walking towards the bed. “This is how you look like in the mornings, hu?” he crawls into the younger’s body. "You're so, so selfish for stealing this view from me, Kwanie, don’t you think?”

"Stop flirting with me,” Byeongkwan murmurs, looking away to hide the blush on his face. Then, even in a tinnier voice, he adds: “I’m hungry.”

The older doesn’t let it slip easily though. He kisses Byeongkwan in a hungry way, all tongue and bites and gasps for air, while his hands roams freely down the younger’s thighs. The brown-haired man feels completely hazed, mind blown by the arousal that starts to pool on his lower belly. But as soon as the kiss starts, it ends, and Sehyoon laughs fondly at the way Byeongkwan chases his lips for more when he breaks apart.

They eat in silence, but with the TV on. Sehyoon seems genuinely interested in the crappy show as he slowly chews his food, but Byeongkwan can’t keep the trail of anything due his thoughts. He’s not sure what he was expecting of the morning after, but it sure wasn’t both of them sitting in the small couch Sehyoon has on his living room (Byeongkwan only dressed with his now clean underwear and a sweater Sehyoon lend him), with their thighs touching briefly and elbows brushing against each other from time to time. Byeongkwan is sure as hell he wasn’t expecting this— _domesticity_. But soon, the food is gone and he doesn’t know what to do. Should he say something? Should he just pick his stuff and leave? Should he make a move on Sehyoon?

“Well,” the older smiles at him, stretching in the couch and throwing one of his arms on top of Byeongkwan’s shoulders. “What do you usually do on your Sundays after leaving?”

“Um, I don’t—do much,” he plays with the sleeves of Sehyoon’s sweater, avoiding the other’s look. “I usually sleep, since I don’t rest much in here.”

“That’s because you leave before I even open my eyes,” Sehyoon complains. “If you stayed here more often, you would sleep way better.”

Byeongkwan looks at him for a short moment. “I can’t sleep well on beds that are not mine.”

"Oh, come on," the older laughs without humor. "That's probably the biggest lie you've told me."

The younger frowns at him before turning his face again to look at the TV. “I don’t want to talk about it,” Sehyoon lets out a heavy sigh and Byeongkwan knows he has won the small argument. "Besides—it's not like I'm going home yet, so stop complaining."

The older uses the arm around his shoulder to pull him closer and the brunette man takes the opportunity to straddle his hyung’s lap. They meet halfway for a short kiss, just lips pressed against each other for a briefly seconds before they break apart again. Sehyoon stares at him with something in his eyes that Byeongkwan can't quite make out, but it still makes his stomach twist as the older brushes the stray strands of hair out of his face, tracing his cheek with the pit of his cold fingers after, before leaning in again for a deeper kiss.

The couch feels too small for the both of them, but Byeongkwan shakes his head repeatedly as soon as the blonde asks him if he wants to go to the room. He feels on fire, way too impatient to waste any more time and the bedroom feels too far to make their way there now. Sehyoon nods, half a smile on his lips as he traces Byeongkwan's ribs with his hands, lifting the sweater on his way up.

He kind of regrets not going to the room as soon as he's pushed down into his back on the couch, his nudity on full display for Sehyoon’s eyes, who hovers on top of him as he slams his hips against Byeongkwan’s ones in a tortoise slow pace. It's not a new position for them, Byeongkwan knows this is the older's favorite one—it's just that this is the first time they're doing it on daylight, and Sehyoon's bedroom is way darker than his living room. Byeongkwan feels too self-conscious all of sudden and he doesn't like it.

“What’s wrong?” Sehyoon softly grabs at his jaw to make Byeongkwan’s eyes lock at his own. “Your mind is somewhere else.”

"It's nothing," the younger shakes his head quickly; his arms circling the older’s shoulders and pushing him against his chest, desperately wanting to avoid the soft, caring way in which Sehyoon treats him. “Go faster, hyung. Ruin me.”

Moments later, as Sehyoon lies on his back on the couch and holds the smaller body against his chest, Byeongkwan slowly comes down from the stars and crashes into reality. A kiss is pressed against the crown of his head, and he closes his eyes and reminds to himself that he can’t cry. Not here. Not over this. Especially not in front of Sehyoon.

⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘

His shoes make a thud as Byeongkwan shakes them off of his feet into one corner of the entrance. His jacket is next, falling ungratefully on the floor as he slowly walks into the apartment. The house feels even colder and emptier since he doesn't bother to turn the lights on, making his way to the bathroom with just the last rays of sun that gets through the balcony lighting the living room.

The hot water feels like a blessing against his skin. Byeongkwan doesn't make even the minimal effort to clean his body, wash his hair, anything—he just stands under the artificial rain and lets the emotions fill him. He keeps his eyes closed, avoiding the red marks that tint his body, because his mind is already full of Sehyoon and he doesn’t need more reminders of the time he spent on the older’s house. 

Byeongkwan walks around his room on his underwear, searching for his charger. His phone ran out of battery a few hours before he left Sehyoon’s house and he knows he will have to call Yuchan and tell him about his date last night, before his best friend shows up at his door. He bites at his thumb as the device turns on, and a flash of Sehyoon’s finger inside his mouth crosses his mind. Byeongkwan huffs annoyed with his brain.

The phone rings as soon as it brings to life. "Mh?" it's his only answer.

"Why didn't you pick up your phone sooner?" Yuchan whines on the other side of the line. "Do you have any idea of how _worried_ I was?"

"Yah, I'm the older one. Don't baby me," Byeongkwan lets his body fall into the bed. "Everything is fine, I'm at home. My phone ran out of battery, that's why I didn't call you sooner."

Yuchan stays quiet for a moment. “So, I assume the date went right? You spend the night at his house?”

“The date went _awful_ ,” Byeongkwan groans. “He was an asshole. He asked me if I was going to switch my career because it’s not something sustainable.”

"That sure sounds like an asshole."

"Besides, he didn't stopped smoking and you know how much I hate—"

"—you hate the smell of smoke," Yuchan recites for him. "I know. But where were you? Did you really sleep until, well, _now_?"

Byeongkwan remains silent for a moment. Yuchan knows about Sehyoon and their whole—thing. Of course he does, he has been Byeongkwan's best friend since forever. Still, Yuchan is also one of the people that insist a lot about how Byeongkwan should just date the older man already. So, as usual as when it comes to Sehyoon, he lies. "Yes," the brunette nods, even though the younger doesn't see him. "He really putted me in a bad humor and I just passed out as soon as I got home."

“Hm,” Yuchan hums. “Right.”

Byeongkwan prompts his body up, holding his weight with one elbow. “You don’t believe me.”

"Of course I don't believe you. Do you think I'm an idiot, hyung?" the younger sounds offended. "If your brain wasn't so full of Sehyoon, you would have seen me last night at the bar with Junyoung-hyung."

"You were there?"

" _Yes_ , I was there," Yuchan whines and Byeongkwan can hear the pout on his voice. "Now open the door, would you? I brought pizza for dinner and I’m ready for the details."

Byeongkwan loves his best friend over almost every person on his life. He would do anything for Yuchan, and he knows the younger feels the same. Still, right now, as the taller boy sits in front of him scrutinizing with squinted eyes, Byeongkwan kind of wishes they weren’t as close as they are. He's not ready to do this right now. Spending the night —and half of the day— at Sehyoon's place has already been a roller coaster of emotion and Byeongkwan feels drained of energy right now. He just wants to eat his pizza and sleep.

“Hyung,” Yuchan finally says, leaning back against the couch. “I’m tired.”

Byeongkwan nods. “I’m tired too.”

“No,” the younger shakes his head. “I’m tired of this—game. And I’m tired of seeing you like this.”

“I’m sorry, I guess.”

“Hyung, come _on_ ,” Yuchan whines, pushing at Byeongkwan’s body to show his annoyance. “You can’t keep doing this to you. Every time you come back after seeing him, you look—sad. _Empty_. This is not healthy for you.”

“You think I don’t know that?” the older says as he laughs shortly but without a drop of humor. “I wish I could just stop going back to him. That would—I know that’s the solution. Yet, I can’t help but to compare every fucking man I go out with, with him. And it seems like I can’t either avoid end up in his bed every time a date goes bad.”

Yuchan stares at him for a moment. "You know that's not the solution," he says slowly. "Why don't you give him an opportunity and just—"

"Chan," Byeongkwan cuts him off with half a smile. "I'm going to the bed, yeah? Turn the lights off when you come to the room, too." 

⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘

A hand covers Byeongkwan’s mouth, keeping his moans low. He tries his best to keep his weight on his own, but his legs feel like jelly and his knees are trembling more and more the closer he gets to his release. Behind him, Sehyoon breathes harshly into his hair, never stopping the movement of his other hand on top of his lover's shaft. It feels overwhelming, a mix of fear and excitation due the possibilities of being caught doing something they shouldn't.

It’s not the first time they meet up in the bathroom destined for the personal of the bar, but it only happens whenever they feel too loaded of anxiety and stress, and none of them can wait for the show to end to get to Sehyoon's place. Still, it happened more times than what Byeongkwan would like to admit.

“Come on, baby,” Sehyoon purrs on his ear, placing a wet kiss under it as his hand speeds up. “I know you’re close.”

Byeongkwan is an incoherent mess of pleads and _hyung_ ’s that slips out of his mouth under, all of them muffled by Sehyoon’s hand. He can’t focus on anything but the hand taking him higher and higher, closer to the stars on each stroke. Without any warning, his knees end up giving completely and he falls fully into Sehyoon, who holds the smaller body as he laughs softly.

"There you go, baby," Sehyoon coos at him, softly kissing his neck. “Let’s get you clean so we can get back there.”

Yuchan it's considerate enough to not say a thing when he goes back to the bar feeling too self-conscious about his aspect and how obvious it is what just happened—even if his aspect wasn’t enough, nobody spends around half an hour in the bathroom just to pee. Jinwoo turns around as soon as he sits on his stool and pulls out Byeongkwan's favorite drink, and even though he doesn't mention a thing either, Byeongkwan can see the hint of the smirk he has on his lips.

“Did your friend get here already?”

Yuchan shakes his head, pouting at Jinwoo’s question. “He’s not even answering my texts.”

“What a jerk,” Byeongkwan points out, taking a sip from his drink. “Good thing your favorite hyung is here with you.”

“You're going to be my favorite hyung the day that you won't abandon me as soon as the show is over to go and get into certain someone’s pants,” the younger sticks out his tongue. "But you can still keep the best friend title."

"You're a brat," the brunette man pushes him. “I came with you today; I’m not leaving with—anyone.”

“You should _really_ stop lying to yourself because we both know that you’re—"

"Byeongkwan-ssi," a fourth voice calls. "Can we have a small chat? Just for a moment."

To say that he’s behind surprised to see Park Junhee —the vocalist of Sehyoon's band and also best friend— calling for him is an underestimation. Byeongkwan blinks, feeling a little lost, before Yuchan hits him in the ribs with his elbow to make him react. "Um—yeah. Sure."

They walk stairs up into the second floor, where the bar has a small terrace for employees. The cold weather hits him as soon as Junhee opens the door, and even though his jacket doesn’t do much to keep him warm, Byeongkwan doesn’t complain. The fresh air is like a blessing to his lungs, since the bar is full as usual on a Saturday night and he was starting to feel kind of claustrophobic surrounded by so many people.

He spots Sehyoon as soon as he steps out into the terrace and it makes him freeze. “I’m sorry that I lied, but he asked me to call you,” Junhee apologizes immediately before closing the door behind him.

They’re left alone and Byeongkwan kind of wants to disappear into the air. It’s the first time they meet again after the night he spent at Sehyoon’s place and even though nothing out of common happened between them that day, Byeongkwan felt the need to put a little distance between both. His stomach twirls with something he doesn’t want to name, so he tries his best to let the awkwardness aside. “You send people to call for me now?”

“Well,” Sehyoon smiles big, both hands inside of his jeans’ pockets. “Didn’t know if you will come knowing it was me who wanted to see you.”

"Why wouldn't I?" he asks, stepping closer to the border of the building where the older is standing. “We saw each other barely fifteen minutes ago in the bathroom.”

"I don't know, we didn’t—we didn’t even talk in the bathroom," he confesses with a sigh. "Last time was— _new_. Right? And you didn't show up at the bar in almost a month after so I thought—” he lets out another sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Kwan, did I do something wrong? Did I do something to upset you?"

Byeongkwan gulps down with difficulty the knot blocking his throat. He's left speechless, not sure of what he should say right now. Because _yes_ , he's mad, annoyed and upset. But Sehyoon is not the ending receiver of any of those emotions; all of them are directed to Byeongkwan himself. Sehyoon tilts his head slightly to the left, crossing his arms on top of his chest and Byeongkwan bites at his lower lip when it threats to start trembling and show how much he wants to cry right now at the sudden change of the atmosphere. Sehyoon seems mad now, besides confused.

The younger does his best to take a slow breathe to steady his respiration, before nodding shortly. "I was—I was mad," another nod. "I don't like when the routine gets—I don't like it when it gets out of its way. We're supposed to meet here to—"

"Meet whenever _you_ feel like it," Sehyoon cuts him.

"— _yes_. Whenever _I_ feel like it," he says harsher than he intends. "Sehyoon-ssi, we're not dating," Byeongkwan says slowly and he hates that the words are more like a reminded to himself than from the other man. "When we started this, we agreed that—"

" _I know_ ," Sehyoon cuts him again and this time the younger gets quiet. "I know what we agreed, but it's been almost a year, Kwan. You can't—you can't expect me not to feel anything after a fucking year of being exclusive to you."

The knock on his throat gets bigger, harder to swallow. He repeats in a small tone: “exclusive with me?”

“I told you the first time that I don’t do this. I don’t occasionally hook up around with people,” he leans back against the railing. “I kind of made an exception for you because you were really cute.”

Byeongkwan doesn’t want to talk about it, so as soon as he sees a way out, he takes it. Slowly, he approaches the older, until their chests are pressed together. Sehyoon’s hands automatically search for the smaller hips as Byeongkwan’s ones play with the collar of the older’s shirt. “I _was_ cute?”

Sehyoon looks at him without humor, just studying Byeongkwan’s expression for a moment. Then, he sighs deep, resigned, and lets his forehead fall softly against the younger’s one. Byeongkwan knows he has won but it leaves him a bitter-sweet sensation inside. “You _are_ cute. The cutest one.”

That same night around two in the morning, Byeongkwan finally gets to his bed. Just a second after, the gears on his brain start scheming and, by four in the morning, his eyes feel heavy with tiredness and puffy for crying. There's an ache inside of his chest, pulsing and growing with every minute that goes by, with every thought of _what if_ that crosses his mind.

Byeongkwan sniffs as he sits on his bed, rubbing the tears away with the back of his hand. He feels pathetic, crying over his broken heart when he knows it was his own fault that it broke in the first place. He lets out a deep, shaky breath as soon as he gets aware that his heart is probably not the only one broken right now and that he’s being selfish and an asshole once again. He has known about Sehyoon’s feelings for him for a while. It’s not like the older had tried to even hide them, confessing to Byeongkwan that he was catching feelings barely three months after they slept together for the first time. It caused havocs inside him, because Byeongkwan was not looking for a relationship, tired of trying his best to get dumped anyways.

But Sehyoon was a case apart. Different. Of course he was.

They met for the first time at some bar on a Friday night, casually bumping in the bathroom for the first time and sharing a few smiles and glances. Then they crossed paths once again on the dance floor, and Byeongkwan approached him with his mind full of _why not_. They ended up dancing together for a long time, but the music got slow, the dances more sensual and Sehyoon’s hands started to roam more freely around Byeongkwan’s back. Still, none of them seemed to be confident enough to make the first move, until Sehyoon asked him if he was tired of dancing and Byeongkwan got brave enough to kiss him full on the lips, answering that “yes, and lie down on a bed would be really nice right now.”

At that time, while Sehyoon was taking him to the stars on the overwhelming first orgasm of that night, things seemed pretty easy for Byeongkwan. He had amazing sex, a wonderful night and then left the apartment around five in the morning, with Sehyoon still deep asleep on the middle of the bed where he was holding Byeongkwan’s body moments before. However, a week later he was still thinking about this stranger, his body aching for the touch of those warm hands.

The second time they met was actually Yuchan’s fault. His best friend turned twenty one a week before and Byeongkwan promised him that they would go out and drink to their hearts content. Yuchan was the one that picked the bar: “you’re going to love it. The price of the drinks is pretty low and they even have live band that plays on Saturdays.”

His eyes met Sehyoon’s ones as soon as he sat on a table next to his best friend. Byeongkwan choked on his drink, coughing as Yuchan rubbed his back and asked him if it was too strong. Sehyoon gave him a big smile, something that shown to Byeongkwan that yes, he remembered him too. They met at the bathroom half an hour later and talked a little, the sexual tension palpable in between the smiles they sent to each other. Sehyoon asked him if he was doing anything later and Byeongkwan had to excuse himself, saying that it was his friend’s birthday and he wouldn’t leave him alone, but with the promise that they would see each other again.

Barely a week later, he was back at the bar and Sehyoon didn’t waste any time in dragging the younger into the employees’ bathroom this time for a breathtaking kiss, before the show started. Byeongkwan felt in a cloud of haziness the rest of the night.

It became a routine soon enough after that day, so Byeongkwan needed to put a few rules for himself. Not giving his phone number to Sehyoon was the first one, because he didn’t trust his own self-control. He would simply go to the bar two weeks at month, but never two in row. Byeongkwan knew he was a person that developed feelings easily —and the fact Sehyoon was way too good at taking care of him didn’t help in the least— so he also put that rule as a way to stop himself from getting attached. As a barrier for his heart.

Just that barely a month later, Sehyoon was confessing his feelings for him and throwing every single effort Byeongkwan made to the trash. After that, Byeongkwan didn't go back to the bar in almost two months. He was too afraid because he knew he would give in if Sehyoon asked for more than just casual hook ups.

It’s not that Byeongkwan is afraid of settle down, of course no. The problem is that relationships never work out for him; he always gets his heart broken by the other person for giving too much, diving too deep. You can’t blame him for wanting to keep his heart safe now—even though is a bit late for that now. Byeongkwan chokes on a new sob, hugging his pillow and falling back into the bed.

⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘

He avoids the bar for three weeks in a row. It’s not like he plans to avoid Sehyoon forever, but his minds —and heart— needs a break right now. Still, the universe seems to have a personal problem against him and no matter how much effort Byeongkwan putted into avoid the older, they end up meeting again by causality on a rare free Monday he has. Or more like by Donghun’s fault, instead of actual causality.

“What do you mean you’re seeing someone?” Yuchan’s voice resonates through the café and a few people glance at their table. "Why didn't you tell us sooner, hyung? You can’t just throw at us that we’re meeting your new boyfriend here all of sudden."

"Because," Donghun taps the younger’s forehead a few times. "It wasn't a really serious thing at the beginning. We were, you know—taking it slow."

"Look at that lovey-dovey smile you have on," Byeongkwan teases him. "Who is the lucky stranger, hyung? Or do we know him?"

Donghun shifts his position on the chair, straightening his back and Byeongkwan's smile falls off of his face immediately. _Shit_. “Well, yeah. You do know him."

Just as if it was taking out of a movie scene, the door of the small café gets open right there, the little bell hanging of it tinkling with the movement. Byeongkwan turns to look at the person that walked in, blinking and trying his best to keep his mouth shut when no other but Kim Sehyoon smiles warmly right at him from the doorframe.

But in the end, Byeongkwan doesn’t need to ask because Yuchan does it for him. "You're dating _him_?"

“What?” Donghun turns around to look at the younger. “Chan, I love you but you’re nuts if you think I would date my boyfriend’s best friend. Besides, aren’t Sehyoon and Byeongkwan—”

“You’re dating Junhee?” Byeongkwan finally gets out of his stupefaction, cutting his hyung’s words and avoiding the uncomfortable moment. “ _Park_ Junhee?”

“Yah,” Donghun smacks him in the back of the head, looking offended. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Because I didn’t know he was into guys,” Byeongkwan whines, rubbing the aching spot.

“He’s not into _guys_ ,” Sehyoon’s voice sends involuntary shivers down his spine. “He’s into Donghun.”

Half a second after those words, the so-named man walks into the café, bright smile adorning his face as soon as he sports Donghun. Something twirls inside of Byeongkwan's chest when he sees the way they smile at each other; eyes full of a complicity that only lovers can have. With something Byeongkwan knows he already has in all those steeled glances he and Sehyoon share whenever they meet on a crowded place. Something he's really afraid of.

Byeongkwan doesn’t want to be third-wheeling, so he prefers to end up sitting between Yuchan and Sehyoon while Junhee slips in the seat he was taking before, next to Donghun. He pretends to hear nothing when Yuchan's yelp cuts the conversation off; it's what the younger deserves for not switching places with him and letting Byeongkwan sit next to the current source of his misery.

He’s good at pretending, so the brown-haired manages to ignore Sehyoon’s presence for like five minutes, before a warm hand softly creeps into his thigh. Byeongkwan goes completely stiff for a moment, before placing his hand of top of the other's one and trying to pull it out, but it only ends in fingers lacing into his own. The older looks completely amused when Byeongkwan huffs annoyed.

Donghun and Junhee answer Yuchan’s questions about how and when they met—and laugh at the younger’s whines about: “why didn’t you say it sooner? A month, hyung. _A month_.” Byeongkwan laughs along, falling into a comfortable atmosphere quickly as he listens to his friends’ conversation.

It’s too late when he notices that his subconscious has betrayed him: Sehyoon's arm hoops around his shoulders as Byeongkwan lets himself fall into the other's warm side. He's thankful that any of his friends teases them about it; the brown-haired feels embarrassed enough already.

The sky starts to lose its warm colors after a few hours, giving way to the night as the five of them say their goodbyes outside the café. Junhee, Donghun and Yuchan are the first ones leaving and, even if none of them says it, Byeongkwan knows they are kind of doing it on purpose. He looks at his feet for a few seconds, before gaining enough courage to look at Sehyoon’s face without his legs trembling.

"You're going home already?"

The older smirks at him. "Perhaps do you have a better plan?"

Sehyoon takes his time to shake the coldness of the night out of Byeongkwan’s body. He makes the younger lie down in bed, surrounded by the darkness of the room as he kisses down his lover's neck and chest, hands rubbing exposed skin. Byeongkwan is a mess of whimpers and sighs; his hands busy clenching at Sehyoon's newly dyed black hair. Deep inside his chest, it feels different. He can’t quiet focus completely on the sensation on his body, his mind running too fast for him to catch.

He feels sad. There’s a filthy feeling inside him telling that it's wrong; Byeongkwan shouldn’t be doing this. _You can’t keep playing with his heart_ ; a voice calls him out, _no matter how much it belongs to you._

All of sudden, the moment seems much more intimate, crawling onto him and digging so deep under his exposed heart that it feels overwhelming, breathtaking on a bad way. And then, there are tears running down his face at the same time a pair of warm lips trail a path of kisses down his body. And when the first sob leaves him from deep inside and Byeongkwan slams both hands on top of his mouth, Sehyoon goes completely still. 

“Byeongkwan?” he knees on the bed, reaching for the younger’s face in the darkness of the room. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

He can't talk. There are tears and feelings and words he can't say trapped on his throat, hurting him from the inside. Sehyoon keeps asking, sounding more and more worried with each passing second, but Byeongkwan keeps crying without a word. He clings into the other’s arms, using his chest as a safe place to let himself being seen broken for the first time.

The older stops asking after a few minutes figuring that there won’t be an explanation for now, and just holds the smaller body against his own, leaving feather-like kisses on Byeongkwan's cheeks and hair in a desperate attempt to comfort him. It takes some time, but the younger ends up for falling asleep between his arms.

Only then, Sehyoon allows his own heart to break apart once again.

⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘

The floor feels cold under his feet, but it helps Byeongkwan stop thinking into the emptiness hugging his chest for a moment. He stands in the living room, admiring the ethereal way the morning sun baths the whole room. It feels warm, and he kind-of wishes he could keep seeing this in the future, but that's not an option. His heart needs a break right now; the barrier between it and his feelings needs to be put up again and Byeongkwan knows it’s going to take some time. He needs to learn how to stop breaking his own heart.

Sehyoon's apartment doesn't have a balcony, but it does have a bow window with a custom-made couch under it. Byeongkwan loves that place, even though they only used it a few times while Sehyoon had the younger pinned down for a heated make out session before moving into the room. He lets his mind wander a little, imagining how he would spend hours sitting there just wasting his time if he were actually dating Sehyoon.

There’s a small cracking noise coming from the wooden floor that leads to the bathroom and the room, and Byeongkwan startles slightly before turning around. Sehyoon looks absolutely ethereal with his sleepy face; eyes barely open and hair sticking out in al directions. It’s breathtaking.

Sehyoon rubs his left eye as he walks towards the younger, caressing his cheek as soon as they’re standing in front of each other. “How are you feeling today, baby? Do you feel okay?”

“I’m—” the words get trap on his throat for a moment. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” the older asks as his arms wraps carefully around the other’s waist. “I know I’m not Yuchan, but if something is bothering you can tell me about it. I'll listen, you can—”

Byeongkwan places his hands on top of the older’s chest. “Stop,” he whispers, voice shaking. “Please, just stop. You’re just—you’re making it _harder_.”

“What do you mean?” Sehyoon puts a little space between them, grabbing at Byeongkwan’s shoulder to get the younger to look at him. “Kwan, what’s wrong?”

“I want to stop this,” Byeongkwan lets out in a rush. “I can’t keep doing this.”

Sehyoon seems shocked, taken aback by the words. Byeongkwan watches him blink a few times before completely breaking the contact between them to walk to the couch. The older flops there, running a hand through his black hair with a long sigh. "Did I—did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?"

 _You make me fall for you. Ruthlessly, without regard._ “No,” he shakes his head.

“Byeongkwan, can we—come sit with me,” Sehyoon asks without looking at him. “Can we just talk about it?”

The younger shakes his head, fists clench at the sides of his body. “If we talk about it, it won’t end,” he explains. “This is not healthy for us. We can’t keep doing this, Sehyoon-ssi, it’s—”

“Don’t call me like that,” Sehyoon begs and it cuts deep into Byeongkwan’s heart the way he sounds so broken. “Don’t make it sound like we’re strangers.”

Byeongkwan presses his lips together to stop the words. _It’s what we’re going to be anyways._ It hurts to just think about it. He can’t stand the mere thought of casually bumping into Sehyoon in the future and have to walk past him as if any of this has happened. _Strangers_. They're going to be strangers again.

It takes all of his strength to walk to the couch without his knees giving in. He sits far from Sehyoon; no accidental touch of arms or thighs pressed to each other, as they usually sit in cabs whenever they are too tired —or impatient— to walk back from the bar. Still, the older man carefully places his hand on top of Byeongkwan’s thigh, caressing just a little.

“I wouldn’t think even for a second in force you to do something you don’t want,” Byeongkwan watches as Sehyoon’s Adam’s apple wobbles when he gulps. “But I—I think I need an explanation, you know?” he takes a small pause. “There’s no point in denying our feelings now, Kwan. So—why are you doing this?”

“I can’t—”

The words die on his throat as soon as his eyes lock with Sehyoon's ones. Byeongkwan feels a rush of nervousness running down his spine, and the weight of all his fears press down on top of his shoulders as he stands up from the couch. The door is not far, but still he can't make it. In part, because Sehyoon softly stops him; in part, because Byeongkwan doesn't really want to leave.

“Byeongkwan, please, don’t—don’t leave like this again,” Sehyoon asks weakly, holding into the other's hand. The younger doesn’t refuse to be turned around, facing his lover. “Please, let’s talk about this. We can’t keep running away like this, we need to—”

“No,” the brunette shakes his head. “When we started this, we agreed that there won’t be feelings involved. If you can’t keep it up with this, then—”

“It’s not _that_. You know that—” he says sweetly, caressing his lover’s cheek. “Kwan, you know how I feel about you. You know how much I want this—how much I want _us_.”

Byeongkwan looks down at his hand trapped between Sehyoon’s bigger ones. “It just—it won’t work out.”

Sehyoon looks at him without saying a word for a few moments but Byeongkwan can’t stand his eyes. He can bear with the way his hyung’s eyes look so sad right now. So he looks away, trying to avoid one more thing as if that would give him the solution of every problem in his life. But Sehyoon doesn’t let him, holding onto his cheeks softly and dragging their mouths together in a soft press of lips. Byeongkwan it’s too weak to refuse that. He can feel the tears growing heavy on his eyes, his heart hammering way too loud inside his chest. As soon as the older lets go of his mouth, the brunette hides his face into the other’s chest, hands clenching around the fabric of his shirt.

“You are going to grow tired of me,” the younger murmurs after a moment.

Sehyoon tries to make Byeongkwan look at him, but he fails. “What are you talking about?”

“I doesn't matter how much you like me or what feelings you have for me right now. I'm annoying and grumpy and too intense with everything, and—and you're going to grow tired of me. Just—like everyone else does.”

“Kwan, you don’t—that’s not going to happen,” Sehyoon tries to reach for his face in a successful attempt this time. “I’ve been trying to get you to date me for _months_. I like you, Byeongkwan,” he says slowly, as if that would help him prove his point. “I’ve liked you since the very first time. And that hasn’t changed; after all this time it’s still the same for me.”

“You do like me _now_ , but—” Byeongkwan lets out a small whine, looking away. “You’re the perfect prototype of a boyfriend and I’m just—” he shrugs, smiling without a single drop of humor. “I am just me.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I—” the younger sighs deeply to steady his voice. “I used to date this guy and—and we were fine. Our relationship was amazing, and I was happy and I thought—I thought that we both were happy. But he wasn’t, because I was too demanding and it was hard for him to keep my pace,” Byeongkwan shrugs. “He broke up with me because dating me was overwhelming,” Sehyoon opens his mouth to say something, but the younger resumes his speech. “Then, I dated this other guy. I tried to not be demanding, to keep things that seemed uninterested for him to myself. But still, I was too clingy and too whiny and not pretty enough, because he left me for someone else.”

“Kwan—”

“My last boyfriend—well, I don’t even know if it can call him that,” he shakes his head. “We had this relationship that—I don’t know. It was weird. We didn’t see each other every day, we rarely went out on dates. I should’ve imagine that he was doing it on purpose because he was ashamed of me.”

“Byeongkwan,” Sehyoon’s voice sounds broke. “Please, stop. This is not—”

“I’m not going to be enough, ever,” he says on a tiny voice. “Not pretty enough, not good enough, not enough—boyfriend material,” he rolls his eyes to himself, reciting words someone has already said to him before. “If we start dating, I’m going to dive in deep, to give you everything I have without a second thought. Because that’s what I do. Because I don’t—I don’t know another way to love,” he shakes his head. “And maybe—maybe it would be okay at the beginning. And you would like it, but then you’re going to start getting annoying by it.”

“I’m not like that,” the older points out softly. “I’m not an asshole, I won’t try to change anything about you, much less try to hide you. I like you by the way you are, the whole you. Besides, what if it’s the other way around?” Byeongkwan blinks up at him, confused. “What if I think you’re the perfect prototype of a boyfriend and I‘m the one scared that this won’t work out because of me? Kwan, I’m _terrified_ ,” he murmurs slowly, caressing the younger’s cheeks. “You make me happy—I’m happy even with the little parts I get from you. And I’m scared that I will put too much pressure on you and you will end up running away from me.”

“That’s not—”

“And,” he says softly, cutting Byeongkwan off. “I’m terrified that if I mess this up, I’ll lose you. You won’t be back after a month or two like you always do on this push-and-pull game we have. You’ll leave me for good," the sigh leaving his mouth is shaky. "But I’m ready, and prepared, and I—I just want to be the one that makes you happy. Kwan, please, just give me the chance to make you happy.”

It’s his breaking point. A sob leaves his mouth without him being really able to contain it and Byeongkwan just wants to be held, to be taken care of. Nevertheless, he does a poor effort to stop Sehyoon when he tries to hug him, but the older shushes him softly as he pulls the smaller man against his chest.

Time goes by slowly, but none of them say a thing and the quiet of the room is only broke by Byeongkwan's occasional sniffles and the sound of the passing traffic on the street. Sehyoon holds him close as they lay down in the couch under the window, kissing the top of his head and caressing his back with tender fingers.

The tears take away all of his strength until Byeongkwan feels numb. Until he gets empty. He’s physically and emotionally exhausted, and just wants to close his eyes and let sleep carry him away, until all of this is just some sort of bad dream.

"Are you still awake?" Sehyoon murmurs, but the words come out husky Byeongkwan jolts slightly. "I didn't mean to scare you, I’m sorry."

The younger breaks the hug, looking way as he dries the remains of tears from his cheeks. "It's okay."

"Kwan, why—no. Never mind,” the older shakes his head and sighs. “Do you want some tea? It'll be good for you, your head probably hurts."

Byeongkwan nods, because he doesn’t trust his voice anymore. He’s curious about what Sehyoon was about to say, but can’t make himself ask about it as he lies down the couch once again, curling in a ball. The noises of the older moving around the tableware as he makes tea is the only thing heard in the apartment right now, along with the muffled sounds of street down below that come through the window. Somehow, it makes Byeongkwan ease his mind a little and, before he even knows, sleep takes him away. It doesn't take long for him to wake up again, though. Barely fifteen minutes again, he's blinking his eyes open. The first think his mind processes is that the noises coming from the kitchen ceased. Then, he spots the older sitting on the couch under the window.

Sehyoon always look breathtakingly beautiful, but there’s something ethereal about whenever he’s hit directly by the sun. Byeongkwan thinks that it’s because he has never seen him like this before, since they only met at night and he always leave before the sun was up in the sky. But there's something magical about Sehyoon being bathed with the morning sunlight. It’s an image Byeongkwan wants to keep tattooed in the back of his mind—something he wants to keep seeing.

His mind starts playing dirty tricks on him. Byeongkwan finds himself thinking on how it would be to wake up next to Sehyoon’s warmth every day, watching his sleepy face and puffy eyes and bed hair. He wonders about how it would feel to eat breakfast on the couch with the TV on, elbow on elbow and thighs pressed together against each other. How it would feel to go out on dates; to spend the night without sexual activities involved. Just sleeping, just holding each other close.

He wants that and more. Byeongkwan wants to be the one that gets to see Sehyoon’s worst side and still love him for whom he is. He wants to be the one that gets to hold the older when Sehyoon gets broken, tired. He wants to be the reason of Sehyoon’s happiness—he wants Sehyoon to be the reason of his own happiness. 

Screw this. Byeongkwan is _tired_.

“Hyung,” he calls softly. His heart hammers so loud in his chest that the thumps reach his ears.

Sehyoon blinks twice before turning to look at him. His smile is weak. “Hey.”

Byeongkwan almost fall face first into the floor as he tries to stand up from the couch. By reflex, the older rushes to hold him by the arms, stabilizing the younger one. “Hyung,” the brunet breathes out again, a laugh mixing in the middle. “Sehyoon- _hyung_.”

“What’s wrong?” the older looks at his face in search of something that can give him a clue of what's happening. “Kwan, what's wrong? Talk to me, please.”

A big grin crosses his face. “Hyung,” he whispers playfully, caressing his lover’s cheeks and pressing their foreheads together. “Hyung, I—I like you.”

Sehyoon freezes. He puts a little bit of space between them, grabbing at Byeongkwan’s arms again. “What?” but the younger looks away immediately, flush creeping into both of his cheeks. “Say that again.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “It’s embarrassing.”

“ _Kwan_ ,” the older whines, before searching for the younger’s face and making him look at his eyes. Nevertheless, as stubborn as he is, Byeongkwan closes his eyes. “Please,” he murmurs.

The brunette man sighs deep, both eyes still close. “I like you,” he murmurs and then, in a tinier voice, he adds: "I’m—in love with you." 

Byeongkwan opens his eyes in the right moment to see the stunning smile that crosses Sehyoon’s face. _Well_ , he smiles back, leaning in to meet Sehyoon in the middle of a soft, short kiss. _The risk is worthy for that smile._

⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘ ⋙⋘

F i n.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you liked this story. Let me know what you think about it, and thanks a lot for reading!


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